A Better Earth
by mcc1789
Summary: After the events of "The Neutral Zone" in The Next Generation, 20th century man Ralph Offenhouse is sent off to Earth. However, given the profound changes in the time since he was cryogenically frozen, Ralph finds it difficult to understand modern humans, and find what to do with himself.


**A Better Earth**

Ralph Offenhouse was out of place.

He had known it very quickly, and it was driven home to him by the smug lecture that Captain Picard delivered. This century was not his time. It had no use for him, nor all those skills he had spent his adult life building. Yet he was stuck here nonetheless. Picard had known that. It was clear from the way he had spoken to Ralph, the look on his face. To him, clearly he was a fossil of a bygone age.

While journeying to Earth on the _USS Charleston_, Ralph had wondered about what he would find there. Picard had claimed no one was hungry, wanted for anything, nor still even had the need for possessions. This was ludicrous to Ralph-"want" and "need" were two very different things.

He sat alone in the cabin that the crew had given him, along with his thoughts. Even now it was difficult to accept being on a _space _ship, of all things, hurtling thousands of times faster than light off toward Earth.

He did not know all that had happened since his time, but there must be a way to find out. _The computer, _Ralph thought. It had told him where Picard was on the _Enterprise. _It must be able to tell him that much too.

"Computer," he said, at which a tone sounded. "What's happened with Earth since 1994? Give me the highlights," Ralph added then, realizing how much it would be.

"In 1996, the Eugenics Wars ended with the defeat of the Augments, after costing thirty million lives. Khan Noonien Singh escaped with his followers on the sleeper ship SS_ Botany Bay._" He cursed mentally hearing this. When he'd gone into cryogenic stasis, Khan ruled over one fourth of the human race. At least he'd been defeated, but to hear he escaped alive...

"In 1999, the International Space Station was completed by joint efforts of fifteen countries, including the United States of America, Canada, Russia and Japan," continued the computer. "However the world struggled to recover from the Eugenics Wars, with poverty wracking even the once wealthy countries such as the United States of America." Ralph scowled, thinking perhaps this had been when his investments were wiped out.

"Draconian policies were enacted confining the homeless and poor to Sanctuary Districts in major cities. In 2024, the Bell Riots in San Francisco's Sanctuary District A forced a change in these policies, held to be a milestone in the prehistory of the Federation." He shook his head, thinking about Picard's claims poverty had been wiped out.

"In 2026, World War III began following tensions due to an arms race over the use of genetic modification sparked by the Eugenics Wars. Specialized narcotics were used for controlling soldiers who fought in the conflict. 2037 saw the launch of the _Charybdis_ spacecraft by the United States of America's National Aeronautics and Space Administration."

Ralph shuddered, hearing that the world hadn't managed to avoid another world war even with the fall of the communist bloc. Even so he thought it odd that NASA would launch a spacecraft in the middle. Maybe it had some military purpose-he'd have to ask later.

"In 2053, the Third World War was ended with a nuclear exchange which killed six hundred million. The human species began its path to recovery. Zefram Cochrane invented the warp drive and launched his ship the _Phoenix _in 2063, making first contact with the Vulcan species. Following this, in 2067, the United Earth Space Probe Agency launched _Friendship One_, a deep space probe intended for making contact with other intelligent beings." Ralph was still reeling from the deaths he had heard of occurring in the third world war-he barely heard the rest. It seemed almost irrelevant.

"In 2103"-the computer continued, but a tone interrupted it.

"Mr. Clemens, Mr. Offenhouse, Mrs. Raymond, we're exiting subspace. You'll be transported down to Earth shortly," said the captain's voice over the com system.

"In 2103, Earth's Martian colonies were established," the computer went on when he was done, as if nothing had happened.

"That's enough," Ralph said, and it fell silent. He slowly sat down on the couch in his quarters. They were comfortable, yet also sparse in a way. He gazed steadily out at the stars, seeing them shifting back from an incoherent stream into the familiar winking lights as the ship left subspace. With a hissing sound, the door opened to show a red-uniformed crewman.

"Mr. Offenhouse, we're ready to transport you down," said the young black man. He nodded and followed the man down the hallway, into the elevator. _No, they call it a turbolift,_ he corrected himself, recalling hearing that on Starbase 39-Sierra before getting on here.

"Transporter room 4," the crewman said aloud when the door had closed, and it began moving at once. Ralph admitted that this was a neat feature. When they exited in the corridor outside the room, they were alone.

"Where are the others?" he wondered, recalling his fellow 20th century Americans who like him had chosen the chance of revival by going into cryogenic freeze.

"They're going to different places, so we sent them to other transporter rooms," the crewman replied. He led Ralph into the transporter room, beckoning toward the raised pads at the far end, and Ralph stepped onto one of them. The first time, he had been very nervous.

The Asian woman manning the console pressed something then. Abruptly the image in front of him blurred into a blue, fluctuating haze. In a moment it had cleared up. Before him was a different room entirely, with another man behind a console, also white, though he did not wear any uniform, only what seemed to be civilian clothing in this time.

"Welcome to New York City," he said to Ralph. A wave of relief came over him on hearing that he was finally back. A young white man stood there. He walked up and gave Ralph his hand.

"Kevin Tolman, Mr. Offenhouse," he said brightly when they shook. "I'll be your guide. Now if you'll follow me?" Ralph nodded, walking with him from the transport room. They moved into an open area before exiting onto the street where people moved past, not all of them human.

He had seen aliens before already, on the _Enterprise_, the Starbase and the _Charleston_, but it was still fairly startling. Some appeared very much like humans (though Ralph wondered how that was even possible) while others were easily distinguishable by their differences.

"Mr. Offenhouse, you came from here back then, isn't that right?" Kevin asked while he led him down the street.

"Yes," Ralph agreed. "Where are we going from here?"

"That's up to you, Mr. Offenhouse," said Kevin. Ralph sighed.

"Call me Ralph." Kevin nodded, and he thought a moment.

"Wall Street. I want to see where my office was."

"Of course. Follow me," Kevin said, leading him to a parked car as Ralph looked at the towering buildings overhead. They had different styles, a futuristic type that seemed appropriate. Vehicles passed by overhead too. It was much as he would have expected.

"Strap in," Kevin told him, and then the car lifted off the ground, startling him. Unlike the ones above though it only hovered slightly over the ground. He couldn't tell where they were exactly in the city, for too much had changed. They soon entered familiar territory though.

"Here we are," Kevin announced unnecessarily, while Ralph smiled at the sight of the New York Stock Exchange. Then his good humor faded as he made out the words there: Wall Street Museum. The building where his office had been was entirely different as well.

"A museum..." he growled. Everything was gone. Not only his job, but his entire profession. His office, the stock exchange, probably his home too. Everyone who he had ever known was dead, and had been for centuries. When he chose cryogenics, it had seemed important to stay alive. Yet what was life with all that had defined him now dead?

"What now?" he asked aloud, mostly to himself.

"Do you want visit it?" Kevin asked.

"No!" he exclaimed angrily. Kevin frowned at his outburst.

"You could tour the city, see how things are different." Ralph scowled at the idea. That would only rub it in further. Kevin noted his reaction and pressed on.

"I can help you find a place to live, and work."

"Work?" Ralph retorted. "The work I did is obsolete, apparently. Unless there's still financiers around somewhere?" He held out a moment of hope, but Kevin shook his head.

"I don't think so. The term isn't one I know."

"So what am I going to do?"

"I don't know. What's a financier?" Kevin wondered.

"I handled money for investing and lending," Ralph told him shortly.

"Oh," Kevin said quietly. "No, that's not needed anymore."

"Why?" Ralph asked plaintively, and some passersby glanced at him.

"Well, because we're given all we need," Kevin told him, the same unhelpful answer.

"How?" Ralph demanded. "Where do you get things?"

"I can show you," Kevin said, gesturing back to his car. With a sigh, Ralph nodded and followed him. They got in and soared off again down the street. After many turns they settled down in front of a large building labeled Replicating Center, a steady stream of people going in and out.

"Here," Kevin said, leading him inside. The space opened up into that reminded him mostly of a shopping mall, with soft music playing, fountains sending jets of water into the air, and couches strewn around them. Walkways to higher levels were on both sides.

"Tell me what you'd like to get," Kevin said, as Ralph looked around. There were numerous flat counters (or so they looked like to him) with screens on the sides displaying images. Objects appeared upon their surfaces, some which he recognized, but many unknown.

"I have no idea," he said.

"Maybe a PADD," Kevin suggested.

"A pad?" Ralph asked, frowning.

"No, P A D D, Personal Access Display Device. I'll show you, here," Kevin said, directing him to one of the counters. "Here, see," he indicated the screen, pushing some buttons to scroll through the different items it showed. A rectangular device bearing two buttons and a display screen was shown.

"This PADD will interface you with the Federation network," Kevin explained, "and it has lots of other features too. You really do need one here." Ralph frowned.

"So what is it anyway?"

"It's a computer interface," Kevin said.

"So it gets you onto the Internet?" Ralph asked in surprise as he looked over the image.

"Well, we don't call it the Internet anymore, but essentially yes. So, just press here and your PADD will be replicated," Kevin told him, indicating a button at the bottom.

Ralph stared at this for a moment, and then shrugged, pressing the button. The air over one of the circles on the machine's top shimmered, then the item he had seen on the screen was there. He had to shake his head at the sight.

Ralph had seen the machine on the _Enterprise _create a martini from seemingly nothing. He had been less close then however. To see something appear in front of him, like magic... Ralph touched the device, and then picked it up. It seemed wholly solid and real.

"So that's it, huh? You just go to one of these places, order up things, and go home?"

"That's right," Kevin confirmed. "If it's something too large to carry easily, it can be sent by transporter," he added. Ralph patted the top of the machine.

"All because of this, huh?" Kevin shook his head.

"I don't want you to think the replicator is the only thing that made this possible. Even in your time, or around then, the capacity already existed for everyone's basic needs to be met. The problem was lack of will to do it. Only after humanity had nearly destroyed itself did we finally do it, since our need had grown so great. From what I recall something similar happened after the Second World War in Europe, with the rise of welfare states."

"Welfare!" Ralph exclaimed now. "So that's what it is, then? The entire _planet's _on welfare?" It was a horrifying thing even to contemplate.

"No, no. Welfare existed to help the poor. There is no poverty anymore, and the reason is we've had our basic needs provided for, as I said. No one goes hungry, homeless or unclothed anymore here. Every person has an education." It all seemed too good to be true, thought Ralph. There must be some kind of downside to it. He imagined what it was at once.

"You must have a lot of people not working," Ralph accused. Kevin shook his head.

"Did you only work for money? Rich people in your time still did things. Most people still want something fulfilling, to enrich themselves. Nowadays that may not be producing services and goods of course. They may devote themselves to poetry, painting, theater, or the other arts. Artists today don't go hungry when they can't succeed right away. Most people don't really want to do nothing. They simply don't have to work for their basic necessities in life."

"No one lazes around at all?" Ralph asked skeptically.

"There are some, but as I said most people want to do things. There's only so much lying around or entertaining yourself most people do before it bores them. Most want something more. Simple things that in your time were menial jobs can be that now. Some run shops or restaurants. There's a pride that comes with producing things people want. It doesn't have to be a necessity. Others design products that replicators mass produce. Handmade things have more cachet however. There are scarce goods which still exist like that. Most things though are not."

"So how do you get them?" Ralph wondered, raising an eyebrow. As he himself told Captain Picard, it was not about possessions, but acquiring the power to control his own destiny. With all of his money long vanished, that control slipped from his grasp. It seemed money was unneeded, however. He was given everything necessary simply by being a Federation citizen.

What was the challenge there though? Picard had said it was to "improve himself". He was very happy with himself already. What was it he could improve? Maybe the answer lay in the people making these scarce goods.

"Largely they're available to whoever wants them. First come, first served. Sometimes people will barter for it. They can pay credits too. We get a guaranteed income from them which can be used however we want every year. It's the same for everyone. Money doesn't exist here anymore."

"What?" Ralph said, startled. "You just said they pay with these 'credits'. Then that's your income. What do you mean money doesn't exist?" Kevin frowned now.

"Well, it's different. Gold-pressed latinum is used outside the Federation as money, and we use it there when necessary, but here all we need is provided for. We're given credits to get entertainment, food, clothing, housing and transportation. They're not transferable to anyone else."

"Who do you get _that_ stuff from then?" Ralph wondered.

"Public facilities like this," Kevin said, and Ralph scowled again.

"So what stops people from taking too much?"

"You only get so many credits each year," Kevin told him.

"Who decides what amount to give everyone?" Ralph asked suspiciously.

"The government, by calculating what the average person consumes annually."

"What if you need more?" Ralph retorted. Kevin sighed, wearied slightly with fielding his many pointed questions.

"If there is an emergency, then of course the credit will be extended. Also some things simply are provided without limit, like medical care." _Of course,_ Ralph thought sourly.

"Nice little communist paradise you've got here, comrade," he said sarcastically.

"This isn't communism," said Kevin. "We still have private property. The government doesn't plan everything we produce. It's just... different. We have a safety net."

"Right. So if I wanted to open a factory, what then?"

"There's no need for factories. We have industrial replicators that"-

"Okay, fine, bad example," Ralph cut him off. "What about some other business selling these scarce goods you mentioned? Opening businesses requires investment."

"Nowadays, they don't need more than their annual credit, saved up to replicate materials in some cases," Kevin said. It was Ralph's turn to sigh.

"What the hell happened to capitalism? It's all back to the mom and pop stores at most, from what you're telling me."

"The problem is, your capitalism undermined itself," Kevin told him.

"What do you mean?" Ralph said with a frown.

"Well, technological innovation meant an increasing amount of work could be automated. That culminated in the replicator, of course. Even before that however it was becoming a crisis. There was an incentive to replace workers with machines once it became cheaper. It meant businesses would have no customers though." Kevin shrugged.

"The basic income was instituted, but this revenue came from the taxes placed on businesses as well. Essentially their own money was being sent to other people so they could still buy the products they made. Yet that didn't make any sense-it was circular. The system fell away in the end into what you see now. Big businesses of that kind no longer even exist."

Ralph pondered this, his brow furrowed. Begrudgingly, much as he resisted that thought, it made sense. He could see that the scenario Kevin described could occur (or rather, _had_ occurred) and be a problem. Ralph comforted himself through thinking that there were still _some_ businesses at least.

Still, they didn't need him, or rather his skills. It was a crushing realization. Yes, Picard had said it already, but to have the fact confirmed so starkly by the site of Wall Street's obsolescence... That was a hard thing to accept.

"I suppose at least Carnegie Hall and Julliard are still here?" Ralph wondered hopefully.

"Oh yes," Kevin nodded. "They both still exist." Ralph breathed a sigh of relief, since he had always appreciated the arts. Yet that had not been his vocation. What was he going to do now? Become a painter or something?

"What shall I do?" Ralph said, to no one in particular. "The business I built vanished centuries ago. Hell, even Wall Street is a goddamn _museum_! My entire profession has gone obsolete? What's to become of me?" Kevin looked sympathetic at this, and he felt embarrassed suddenly.

"I can't say for sure, Ralph. Maybe there's something else that interests you? After all, in your time weren't you near to retirement age?" Ralph frowned.

"I died at 55. So about a decade off." Kevin shrugged.

"Well then..." Ralph knew he looked older than his real age. Probably due to working so hard all those years. Yet he had thought it was worth that, at the time. The illness that had led to his early death had probably also been a result.

"I never really had anything else," Ralph said. "No 'hobby' or anything like that even. My work was it for me. I loved it-that was the only thing I'd ever wanted."

"Yes," Kevin murmured, and looked sympathetic again. "I'm sorry, I don't really know what to tell you." Ralph nodded soberly. He appreciated the kid's honesty, at least. Looking back at the Wall Street Museum, he felt hollow.

Everything he had was gone, but that wasn't the half of it. All he had _been_ was gone, and had no place here, or anywhere on Earth it seemed. Ralph remembered the grief he felt at his son's death, in the year before he went into cryogenic freeze. He had been killed fighting in the Eugenics Wars.

Yet in a way he envied his son now, for at least his death had come while working at what he'd chosen. The sorrow Ralph felt now was of a similar kind. He had lost a part of himself with his son. If he had kept his work though, it might have been bearable. Now time had taken that from him too.

Before, he had never once thought of taking his own life. Ralph found it difficult to understand even the impulse then. He did now though, as the idea came. Would these future people understand it? They would pity him, no doubt, if he did it, and rage rose inside of Ralph at the thought.

People speaking an odd-sounding language drew his attention then, and Ralph turned. He saw a trio of orange-skinned beings staring up at the Wall Street facade, speaking with each other. They were similar to humans in their basic builds, though clearly of an alien species.

He could easily understand the look on their faces though, despite them being aliens. It was awe and respect as they looked up at the building, something he hadn't expected. Ralph was surprised, not having expected to see anything like that here. Yet they were not humans-perhaps that was why.

"Tell me," he said, striding over to them, forgetting his dark thoughts now, "why have you come here? I mean, to see this place?" Ralph swept a hand at the building.

"We make annual pilgrimages to Wall Street here, because it was the center of Earth's former currency-based economic system," an alien of the trio replied, showing sharp teeth in a grin. It spoke with an accent, but in understandable English.

_ Ugly, _he thought, looking at their huge ears and bald, lumpy heads. That did not matter though-the reverence in the being's voice stirred him, along with its emphasis upon "currency-based" economic system. He was intrigued at once.

"I don't think many people on Earth appreciate it like you do now," Ralph said wistfully. The aliens chortled at this.

"Quite the opposite," said another. "Only 'self-improvement' they claim to care about." The being now cocked its head. "Yet it seems you do appreciate this. How is that?"

"I come from another time," Ralph told them with a sigh. "Back then, this was my whole life."

"Ah, a human from the time when they cared about _profit!_" exclaimed the same alien at this. "How delightful. We are pleased to meet you. I am Grek."

"Duran," said the first who spoke.

"Parel," the last supplied, who had not yet spoken until now. Ralph was unsure, but he guessed they were all male. At least, they showed no physical signs of being female he was familiar with. Then again, with another species that might be completely different.

"I'd guess that my species doesn't understand yours," Ralph said dryly. They chortled again.

"Not at all," agreed Duran. "We have completely different philosophies."

"I see that," Ralph agreed, musing. The three exchanged glances.

"You would be welcome to come along with us," suggested Grek. "We would be honored to hear of the glory days here." Ralph felt himself growing straighter, towering over them even higher.

"I'd be happy to. Ralph Offenhouse," he added, having neglected to introduce himself. They all apparently had just one name, he remember now. Oh well-alien customs, he thought.

"Do you mind, Kevin?" he asked, looking back, as the three walked toward the entrance.

"Not at all. Whatever you like, Ralph," the young man said with a smile, coming along. _Happy to see me enjoying myself for once,_ Ralph guessed. Well, he was happy also.

The three Ferengi-which they told him was what their species were called-hung on his every word, and asked many questions as Ralph went around with them in the museum. He was more than willing to talk about his time on Wall Street, and warmed by their unapologetic profit motive.

Yes, here were a people he could relate to. More than Ralph could with other humans now, he thought wistfully. After the tour had ended, the Ferengi thanked him profusely for his reminiscences, even insisting on paying Ralph with a bar of "gold-pressed latinum".

"Here, contact us if you wish to get into business again," Duran told him, giving Ralph a card with a string of symbols on it. Ralph frowned in confusion. "Via subspace transmitter," Duran added now, seeing it. "That is my personal code. Don't worry-you can translate it easily with a device."

"Right," murmured Ralph. For some reason, he was not thrilled with the idea. After a moment, he realized why as the Ferengi departed outside the museum. While he liked the idea of getting back into business, these aliens still made him uncomfortable. He wouldn't be happy working with them.

Besides, he thought to himself then, who knew how business had changed in centuries? Or how the Ferengi did it? He might have been a powerhouse in his day, but the times had left him behind. No, either he had to start over, or do something else.

"You know, Ralph, that was great," said Kevin, breaking into his thoughts, and Ralph looked over at the young man. "I don't think anyone's ever connected with the Ferengi like you. At least, no human I've ever heard of. You should be our ambassador for them," he joked.

"Say that again," Ralph said, turning to him. Kevin smiled.

"Oh, well I just mean"-Ralph raised a hand.

"No, it's a good idea." Kevin had supplied an answer to Ralph's question as to what he should now do, thrown out of his own time and into the future. "I understand how they think. Maybe not the exact details of their businesses and all that, but the psychology. I knew thousands of people like that. Hell, once I was them," Ralph admitted. Kevin nodded slowly.

"Yes, well... Maybe you should look at the diplomatic corps. I don't know much about it, but no doubt they could really use someone like you for the Ferengi. Our relations with them are... poor."

Ralph nodded, smiling with genuine happiness at the idea. He had found a new path.


End file.
